


I.O.U

by Ariasune



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2046951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariasune/pseuds/Ariasune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time the Voice steals with his hands, he feels filthy and used. The last time the Voice steals, he wonders what took Bakura so long to start thieving once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I.O.U

Ryou is walking home from school, knuckles sore and trying to avoid eye-contact with each person that passes by, when everything changes.

There is nothing different in his route, his steps are sluggish, and his eyes look anywhere but at people: they lock onto shop windows, the dull grey of the pavement, that driftaway curl of cirrus over the horizon. Now, though, he can't move. His body is removed, absent and distant from him and won't respond.

 _Oh no_ , he murmurs, as the undeniable, implacable ghost clamps down onto his nerves. Ryou chews at the bit, angry and startled and recklessly frustrated,  _Who now? Tell me, who could have possibly done anything-_

 _Shush,_ the voice murmurs, taking a gingery step towards the store. Leans against the glass, and takes a long, cooling blink. If Ryou didn't know this demon better, he'd say the monster was in awe. Transfixed even. 

But this is no narrative where the beast can be befriended. There is no charming theme of peace, or unity, when he reasons with this creature, fails to, rather. He doesn't understand the voice, and it doesn't care to understand him. This is not a story where good triumphs over biting violence. This is not a narrative - this is a tragedy, real and absolute. 

So the Voice's reaction is not awe, is not adoration, it is the prelude to horror, it is-

_Diabound..._

It is shaking with feeling.

 _What?_ He draws attention to himself, but how could he help it? What is that? Ryou tries to focus his eyes, realign into the body long enough to see who has caught the Voice off-guard. There is no person, only a trading card: Diabound Kernel. Part of some Duel Monsters cardgame craze. Ryou barely knows what it is. It's popular and uninteresting. Takes two to play.

 _I've found you_ , The Voice murmurs - and lord, god almighty, babd, and hades, and sekhmet - the Voice sounds like he's in love. Like a fairytale, first sight, aching bones and humming blooded love. As though this is a reunion, and they are not staring at a shop like they've been paralyzed, but that this means something. That this is a soul come home. 

 _There can be justice yet,_ The Voice is jubilant, even shocked. There is a stutter under the words, and it is happy. He has never heard the Voice happy, Ryou realizes. He thought he had, but the casual tone of bloodlust, is nothing to this breathy joy. Dimly, Ryou realizes the Voice is crying. Softly, blissfully,  _The ka-beasts are here; I can right this. Diabound, my ka, my ka._

Ryou's nose is pressed to the glass, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes like mosquito bites, as he watched the Spirit barely keep himself together. Splinter quietly, happily, easily. The window is chilly, and the Voice's hot elation is licking at his rib cage, as the Voice scans the display hungrily.

Then the Voice says something unbelievable:

 _Host,_ he's bid,  _Collect these cards._

The ring is heavy at Ryou's neck like a slack noose.

 _What?_ Ryou mumbles finally,  _Why?_

_I said collect them, not question me, tsk._

The sadistic voice in the back of my head is a huge nerd, Ryou thinks blankly, and the Voice twists sharply. But the Voice wants trading cards. He wants fucking trading cards. He wants fucking children's trading-

_You're ignorant if you think these are just cards._

He is ignorant, he decides, so he decides to placate,  _Especially that_ , he tries to blink but it doesn't reach his eyes,  _Diabound Kernel is it?_

A low laugh, and they're moving towards the shop door,  _Oh no, I can do that one myself,_ the door swings open,  _say host, did I ever tell you I was a king in my last life?_

The Voice once lived? May even have been human? Ryou watched himself approach the display, ring burning at his neck. Why had no one looked at him? He was going to steal - why did not one person turn to look at him? Oh gods, his hands are on the case. He feels filthy.

 _Please don't,_ It almost seems childish to ask this Voice - who steals souls - not to steal. It seems mundane to the point of immaturity.

 _Hush, pet,_ The Voice takes Diabound Kernel silkily, e _ven for the Thief King, this isn't stealing._

 _You didn't pay for it,_ he feels every bit as mortal and young as he should when the Voice laughs at him.

 _Oh yes, I did,_ The Voice laughs again, laughs and laughs, brushes a fingertip against the illustration on the card, m _y soul was bought back long ago._

Ryou has no answer, because he doesn't understand, only a question,  _what about mine?_

 _Oh that?_ The Voice leaves the store, _we'll see.  
_

 

 


End file.
